


Moments in Love: The First Time

by Entwife_Incognito



Series: "Moments in Love" [5]
Category: The Mentalist
Genre: "Moments in Love" series, F/M, First Time Together, Friendship/Love, Romance, Sexy Times, smutty smut smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-04
Updated: 2016-12-04
Packaged: 2018-09-06 11:29:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8748901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Entwife_Incognito/pseuds/Entwife_Incognito
Summary: There's no time, no place, no setting, no lead-in. Only an act of love. I guess that makes this one-shot straight up PWP and romantic fluff. Inspired by carlaoliveira-cd's Tumblr drawing, 'Jisbon Skin to Skin.' So beautiful. You should look it up and enjoy the scene Carla created. Disclaimer: I own nothing about The Mentalist.This story was originally posted at FFnet on August 19, 2014. Now here with edits to improve readability.





	

Patrick wasn't prepared for the silence in his body as he looked at her, breath suspended in his lungs like wisps of cloud high in the blue on a summer day. The pink glow cast in the cream under her freckled skin struck wonder through his eyes and his brain needed nothing else, receding into the quiet of moments piling up like gold coin. Yet her shape, it's hills and valleys, dark and light, the flesh that staked her as woman made his body vibrate with desire. Every muscle was ready and silent, primed and poised, suffused in the happiness that buoyed him like helium in an anchored balloon.  


Prolonging the moment to watch the lovely woman in front of him was self-indulgent, but he savored it almost to the point of cruelty, withholding anything further until her great need woke him.  


Teresa lived in the same golden moments, hot and tingling. But she trembled, restless, unsure how to respond to a reality that had always been a dream. Her body was both partner and proxy for the love that surged uncontrollably towards him. Her shallow breath added to the quiet. In that stillness she suffered, needing to be taken this first time, her eyes almost frightened that she could be standing nude with an aroused Patrick Jane, ready to swallow him into her body if he would only touch her.  


The unbound beauty of his features and form, sleekly robust, made her mouth water. 'Cover me. Cover me,' her secret voice begged him. She eyed his cock, full and hard, igneous rock from the fires of his core, forming skin at the thin boundary of the night air. He would boil her blood.  


He took a step toward her and she almost moved back, holding her hands out. Patrick wasn't sure whether she was reaching for him or holding him at bay.  


"Teresa . . ." Lifting a hand, he touched her, fingertips to fingertips.  


Her gaze snapped to their touch as she gasped at the flood of sensation, entwining their fingers before the sound fully left her lips. He closed the distance between them. It seemed one fluid movement as he sat on the bed, then leaned back, almost a dance that brought her into his anchoring embrace, her hip lying across his legs. Soft pillows propped his back, creating a warm lover's cocoon that could support them through anything, as long as they never let each other go. Eyes and fingers babbled softly . . . gently, in the only words needed.  


They were in each other's arms at last, this man and this woman, long separated by need and then by folly. Patrick cradled her, a living treasure long sought, holding Teresa close to his chest, one arm wrapped across her back, supporting her exquisite shoulder and neck, the other in her hair, fingers curling the top of her head in their own embrace. Their eyes gently shut, she flowed with him so easily, his contentment and peace so complete, that they could have been sleeping. Another moment full in itself.  


When his hand slid from her hair, her face turned up to look at him. Patrick peered into unclouded green eyes, searching her for any resistance or doubt. A soft smile crinkled his eyes when he found none.  


Teresa smiled back and he took a kiss. When she stopped a small intake of breath by biting her lower lip, he covered her mouth with his and reveled when she let go and began to kiss him back. They tasted one another, lingering until there was one taste. She broke to press lips and tongue on his neck and shoulder, their breath quickening. Each heart pounded in its chest, pounding against the other, answering drums.  


His fingers, slipping down her spine, stopped at the swell of her hip, pivoting to sweep the side, then to cup the fullness of a fleshy globe. He groaned then, utter satisfaction and wonder to know what he'd always dreamed to see. His large, graceful hand held the cheek, entire.  


Fire sparked her core, immolating her pelvic carriage, blots and blossoms of contained flame that filled every space, bubbling, traveling, consuming oxygen until she was breathless, even mindless, as her hips began to move, rolling voluptuously in the cups of his wide, receptive hands. She wanted what he wanted.  


Brushing up the cleft with light fingers, he touched a place, a triangle of flesh that made Teresa huff, uttering a low moan. Her hips jutted against his hard flesh and he moaned with her. Focused on that patch of skin, he massaged above the cleft. Her body tightened, hips writhing and energized everywhere, unable to cope with the stimulation of his unstoppable fingers as they learned a new instrument. She almost wriggled out of his arms.  


"Tell me, Teresa . . ."  


"You . . . you make me feel . . . I'm going to let go in a minute if you keep touching me there. I don't want to shock you."  


"You're not ready to shock me?"  


"Not now. I don't want to be wild, now."  


"Okay. We'll wait on wild. But I want you to know . . . " His eyes twinkled in the subdued light of the curtained room.  


She spoke softly and stroked his cheek. "What do you want me to know?"  


"I can't wait to be shocked by your lovemaking."  


They sought each other for a long passionate kiss followed by whispering words and more kisses.  


"Remember on the plane, I said, 'I love you.'"  


"You said so much more, Patrick."  


"And you said . . ."  


"In the interrogation room . . . I love you, too."  


"No. Say what you said. Say it again."  


"I feel the same way." Her voice was soft and low, like before, a soothing truth.  


"Same way about what, Teresa?" Supporting her back, he pulled away to look at her bare breasts, waiting for him, their tips hard and pointing. He kissed her throat.  


She relaxed into a long smiling pause as she imagined his mouth where he surely meant to go. "Well . . . that I love you"  


"Yes . . . " He sucked a nipple, then tugged it and she surged into the sudden warmth of his mouth, the hint of rough play.  


"And I want to be with you"  


"Yes . . ." He tugged the other nipple while his splayed fingers traveled slowly down her stomach and gathered at the small patch of silky raven hair at the top of her sex. She moaned softly and parted her legs more.  


"And I can't imagine never seeing you again." A tear fell down her cheek.  


He kissed it away. Below her belly, his fingers traveled into the wet, releasing the first tendrils her arousal. "Teresa!" He held his fingers delicately under her nose, sniffed them himself as his eyelids drooped, taken by her scent, and then licked slowly with the tip of his broad tongue. She cried out and kissed him, her taste mingled now with his.  


"How else do you feel the same as me?"  


"It breaks my heart to even think about not ever seeing you."  


He kissed her lips lightly.  


"And I don't ever want to be apart again." She moved her hips, searching for him. "Patrick! I want you inside me!"  


Her urgency was an electric spark and he leaned back, arching to lift her hips, reaching down to position himself for his first plunge into her. He wanted to ravage her and he wanted to wait, savor the moment. Intense pleasure threaded exquisite pain, knowing that the first time, that first ecstatic sensation of penetrating her, would be gone forever. He put those thoughts aside to experience every moment of their first union. "Why? Why don't you want us to be apart ever again?"  


"Because I love you with everything I am and everything I don't have words for. Forever. Never leave me." When Teresa felt the succulent head of his penis nudge her wet flesh to seat itself, she shifted to lodge him there. Then, she wrapped her arms tight around him and let her desire speak to Patrick in whimpering puffs of breath.  


He let her hips fall and plunged into her. "Never!" Her soft heat sizzled up his spine without pause. He wasn't sure if he would come as her pressure and grip urged him, or simply black out, saving himself the shame of having made her wait for satisfaction. He distracted himself by sinking his teeth near her throat, only enough to hold the flesh so that he could suck and mark her, make her hold still for it as she cried out in pleasure.  


Teresa felt the rolling pressure as he impaled her, held her hips to ease him into her depths until he knew he would not hurt her. Then his teeth were at her neck, a low growl in his throat and he marked her, connecting them in two places and she felt the current of stimulation travel back and forth, released with a cry. He let go to speak.  


"I love you, Teresa. You're a part of me. I will never leave you. I couldn't. I'd rather d-."  


"No! Don't! Don't ever say that!" She covered his lips with her fingers. "Roll me to my back. I want to see your face as you make love to me. You feel so good." His cock was thick and it forced her wide, seating tightly into her depths. Everything about his movements excited her. He tugged at her nipples, curling his spine to delve until he was the only thing she felt, her only thought their connection.  


Patrick let each moment create the next, enveloping them in a timeless bubble. His rigid cock slipped sweetly into her snug channel, falling into an ancient rhythm full of power. The way she took him in, pushed onto him, sent a chill up his spine and raised the hairs on his neck. Thought flowed away and there was only Teresa, and the way his body felt with her. The way her small hands touched him, gripped his sides or shoulders. The way her legs moved as he thrust into her. Her kisses, her cries, her breath, her hair on the pillow. The face of her pleasure.  


Teresa felt the approach of her first orgasm with Patrick. It rushed at her like racing horses and was on her before she could warn him. Gasping as her back arched, she pushed against his shoulders and stared at him, mouth open in shock while he smiled, taking in what was happening as he felt the heavenly crush of her muscles inside. She watched his face soften and his eyes close as she took him with her.  


The last thing he saw was Teresa's eyes, wide and round and black, easing as she looked at his face when release took her. Her eyes drifted dreamily to his, to the expression on his lips, a look of wonder and pleasure. He gasped softly. "You're beautiful," and her hips begin to convulse.  


She groaned in their rhythm, trying to roll forward, into the overwhelming pull of contracting muscle. But his body lay heavy on her, still moving. She felt him, rigid and full inside her, when his breath caught and his head rolled back. He uttered a loud sigh from deep inside, long with relief.  


Teresa held him in ecstasy as he shot wet heat deep inside her. Her muscles had clamped him furiously, melding to his cock. A feeling of fullness grew inside her as, pulse after pulse, he poured seed that couldn't escape.  


She found his parted lips and pressed hers there, giving him a tender kiss. When she let him go, they looked at each other, wrapped in the wonder of what they had created between them. Teresa was taken by his beauty. "You're beautiful. Like an angel collapsed in my arms."  


Eyes glassy with tears, Patrick filled with the unbearable sweetness of making love with her. His adoring look warmed Teresa through. She whispered into his ear. "I love you."  


Tiny squeaking sounds started and faded in his throat, like kittens that couldn't quite mewl, as he searched helplessly for a way to express what he felt. To Teresa, they could have been soft, aborted sobs, but there were no more tears. When he buried his face into her neck and said softly "I love you," it seemed he was speaking to her entire being.


End file.
